


Your love will kill me

by lilimoon



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cooking kink, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hannibal loves you or does he?, You fall for Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 16:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20978903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilimoon/pseuds/lilimoon
Summary: Scenes of your relationship with Hannibal.To describe it with the words of Lana del Rey: "If he's a serial killer, then what's the worstthat could happen?"Chapters can be read as individual stories but they loosely connect to form a story I came up with in the middle of the night after watching a Hannibal cooking video on Youtube.





	1. Prologue

You were leaning into his broad chest between his arms as he was carefully cutting the calf liver in front of you. His head softly pressed against your cheek as you inhaled his scent. Warm and heavy. A smile graced your lips as you slowly took your glass off the counter taking a small sip of your rosé. You had to close your eyes for a moment just to enjoy the peace. "Do you see this line right here", he asked softly causing your eyes to open "this is the artery and you slice the liver just below it." The knife glided silently through the meat as you were watching intently. Your gaze strangely entranced by the movement in front of you. One last stroke and the liver was cut in half. Hannibal placed the now pink glistening knife beside it. You could see his reflection tainted red in the metal. "You can feel the artery if you pay attention to it." He took the glass out of your hand and placed it on the side. His hand returning to yours, he guided your fingers to the organ in front of you. Hannibal pressed down your fingers sliding them along over the cold smooth surface. Your pulse was racing as you felt his hot breath on your neck. The heat of his free hand on your waist creeping through the thin silk covering your body. The room became hot and your peaceful mood suddenly turned into something darker. "Can you feel it?" You slowly nodded turning around so you could look into his eyes. The warm honey now darker turning them into amber. You stared at the man with such adoration you yourself couldn't believe how much you had fallen for him. His hand left your waist only to cup your cheek. Your eyelashes began to flutter ever so slightly in anticipation. He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss.


	2. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene that inspired this chapter and the whole story can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fEgVl0mna3E&t=130s at 2:06.
> 
> Enjoy a glimpse into your morning after with Hannibal :)

You had woken up alone in bed. It wasn´t unusual, although you wished just once he would be there when you wake up. The soft sound of water running in the bathroom revealed his whereabouts. You stretched turning around to enjoy the soft linen sheets a bit more. Sunlight was dancing on your face as you blinked away the rest of your sleepiness. Your body was still sore from the night. The thought of it causing your fingers to come to your neck instinctively. The feeling of his hand creeping up your neck taking your breath away as he pounded into you was still present. His fingers had pushed your necklace into the soft skin as his other hand held your leg that was draped over his shoulder. On nights like this, he was merciless, but you took everything he had to offer. Those images vanished in the steam that enveloped Hannibal as he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips. A wet strand of hair had fallen into his face and his body was still glistening with water drops. He was a sight for the gods. You propped your head on your elbow watching him as he got dressed. Light grey tweed trousers imported from Great Britain and a maroon cashmere jumper from your store in town. The red brought out the golden undertones in his eyes. As he finished he turned around stepping to your side of the bed. You smiled at him your hand reaching to the nightstand taking his watch. It was a platinum Chopard watch with a dark brown leather strap. It reminded you of your father's watch, but you were sure this one cost more than your apartment in the city. He sat down on the edge of the bed his left arm stretched out in front of you. You carefully pulled up his sleeve placing the watch around his wrist and closing it. Your fingers traced the cold metal as you admired your work. You always loved his hands. Hannibal leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead before leaving you to prepare breakfast. You slid your legs off the bed and stood up, the covers slipping from your naked body. After a short hot shower your eyes fell on Hannibal´s white button-down shirt that was draped across a chair in the corner of his room. You smiled. The only reason for it being there was that he knew how much you loved wearing it on lazy mornings. Otherwise, it would have been placed neatly in his laundry basket by now. You reached for the shirt taking it into your hand as you brought it to your nose inhaling his scent.

  
You were sitting on a chair close to the kitchen counter as Hannibal prepared breakfast for you two. Your arm was lazily draped over the backrest your chin placed on top of it as you gazed at the man in front of you. You couldn´t believe how you got so lucky. Hannibal placed an egg on the spatula he was holding. You slightly raised your brows and lifted your head intrigued. To your surprise, he was throwing the egg into the air and as it fell down it landed on the edge of the spatula, slicing it just enough so that the liquid poured out into a bowl below it, while the shell remained on the spatula. You let out a gasp in awe, your mouth slightly open as you raised your eyes to meet his. You could swear you never saw something so hot in your life. He smiled subtly but bursting with confidence fully aware of the effect he had on you. You were an open book to him ever since the first day he laid eyes on you.


	3. Blood and Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after the events of 1x08.

Will was the last one to leave, making sure that Hannibal and you were ok after the forensic team left. Will stepped through the door frame and the realization kicked in as you felt Hannibal's hand on your back. The thought of you two being alone hadn´t occurred to you until now. You looked at Hannibal who was raising his hand to see off Will. Your gaze turned back towards Will and you had the urge to raise your hand as well, to yell at him to stop. But as your hand could do anything but twitch the door shut behind him. You were alone with a killer. Hannibal led you to his living room, the hand on your back slightly pushing you down onto an anthracite jacquard couch. "I will prepare tea for you, baby doll." Your lips twitched into a smile faltering again as he turned around.

You were staring at a cushion on a sofa opposite of you. It was grey, with a rugged surface, placed in perfect symmetry between two other pillows. You stared at it almost as if to expect an answer. Thoughts were racing in your head. The scenario playing in front of your eyes over and over again like a twisted version of a play. You must have gotten it wrong. Your mind played you a trick. It was Tobias Budge, he snapped the neck of Franklyn. It were his hands around Franklyn's neck. At least that is what you told the FBI because it was true, right? Hannibal didn´t do it. He couldn´t. "Here you go." Your eyes snapped up at Hannibal, heart racing. His arm was extended towards you with a cup of steaming tea in his hand. With shaking hands you grabbed it, nodding slightly as a thank you. You could not pry your eyes away from him, following him as he sat down beside you. And over and over you saw it. His hands around the neck of his patient. Snapping it with one quick movement like it was nothing more than a stick. His expression had been so cold. Your hand tightened around the cup, the heat slowly burning your skin. "You killed him," you exhaled staring at the pillow. "Yes, I know." "Why did you do it?" No, stop it, you thought. It was stupid to let him know what you knew. You corrected yourself: What you think you had seen. There was the possibility it all was just the shock, you were overwhelmed, images mixed up in your head. "It was self-defense baby doll; he would have killed us." He laid his hand on your leg intending for it to be comforting. "No. Franklyn, why did you kill him?" God, why couldn´t you just stay silent? You wanted to avert your gaze but you couldn´t, it was like a force that held your stare. You didn´t even have the courage to blink waiting for his answer. "Honey, you are in shock. It is only logical that you confuse things. I did not kill Franklyn." An exhale left your lips. Your eyes wandered to his hand on your knee, the cracking of Franklyn's spine echoing in your ears. You wanted to nod but your head began to shake. "I saw it," you inhaled, "I saw it. The door was open, and I saw you." The grip on your thigh tightened barely noticeable but it was enough to freeze the blood in your veins. What did you do? You could be dead before the day hit dawn if you didn´t stop. You should just tell him you were confused, that you probably needed some rest and then just leave as quickly as you could. This was a mistake. You should have told Jack the truth, or Will, anybody. You had lied for Hannibal because you love him. You love him. Of course. This is why you were sitting here on his couch even after he murdered someone.

He held you in an embrace, your ear pressed against his chest listening to the steady beating of his heart. Your left arm was hanging beside your body while the other was holding the almost empty teacup. The light green liquid almost spilling because of your shaky grasp. The cold kitchen counter was pressing into your back building a stark contrast to his warm body. Your trembling hands wanted to clutch his shirt, you wanted to feel him under your fingers. The teacup slipped in the process shattering into pieces of white on the ground. "I didn´t poison it." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I wouldn´t waste food." What was he talking about? You didn´t understand. You wanted to push yourself away from him with perplexity clouding your mind. But you could only get so far to look him in the eyes, his grip strong around you. He could kill you and you saw he would as you looked at him. His eyes, always brown and warm as whiskey were now staring into yours with such emotionlessness causing a feeling that you might faint to spread through your body. Your pulse raced before your mind could truly comprehend the situation. It felt like a veil was lifted from your eyes. You could see clearly now. But as you wanted to struggle, wanted to fight and get him off you, a blade cut into your flesh, just below the rips. Your eyes widened in shock as a fever started to spread through your body. He took a step away from you pulling out the knife in the process. The silver now covered in red, while blood was pooling at the tip of it slowly dropping to the floor. In an attempt of self-preservation, you stumbled away from him clutching your abdomen as you nearly fell through the nearest door, shutting it behind you. It was dark and humid. The wine cellar. Blood was spilling out of you onto the terracotta Tuscan tiles. You stumbled along the wine racks trying to find something to hold on to but all you could reach were wine bottles that your uncoordinated hands threw to the ground. The glass bottles shattered on the ground. The Cabernet Sauvignon mixed with your blood pooling around your feet. Hannibal’s fists slamming against the wooden door became a muffled background noise as you slid to the ground into the puddle of red.


	4. Beginning

Soft jazz tunes were melding into pattering of rain as you carefully folded a red cashmere sweater. You neatly placed it on the others giving it one last stroke with your hand to smooth it down. The small bell on top of the door rang announcing a new customer. You raised your head, a trained smile turning into a real one once you saw who was entering. „Good morning," you greeted him. He always came in the early hours when the streets were still silent and only a few got lost in the city. He greeted you, always addressing you by your last name, and you could swoon at his chivalry. It was after his second visit when he asked you for your name and you gave it to him with a slight blush on your cheeks. This was now his sixth visit. You felt foolish keeping count on that, but you couldn't help looking forward to him coming into the store.

You remembered a hot afternoon; the shop was fuller than usual. You and your colleague were skipping between consultations and the cash register. You were just coming out of the stockroom as you saw him entering. It was as if time did not exist when your eyes met. He nodded politely with a small smile, and your heart began to beat a little faster. He wore a white linen shirt, one he had bought from you, and a light beige tweed vest and trousers of the same color and material finished his outfit. He looked so out of place at this moment. His tall, broad figure in the small store. His slicked back hair, his clothes, his demeanor. Everything set him apart from the customers around him. He was like a mirage in the flickering heat of the day. You were pulled back into reality as your customer stepped in front of you. „You found it, amazing!" they exclaimed. You gave the woman a white silk blouse with a polite nod. „If you need me, I will be here." you offered as she made her way over to her company. Your eyes were searching the store and heat crept into your cheeks as you saw that he was still looking at you. You nodded at him and raised your hand - which to your surprise was slightly shaking - signaling him to wait a moment and then you turned around to enter the stockroom again. The cool temperature in there was a welcomed difference. You went to one of the shelves and picked up a box containing a beautiful maroon tie he had picked from the catalog with you a week prior. Your fingers glided carefully over the card that was attached to it. You remembered exactly when you asked him for his name to put down on the order. Your hands shook ever so lightly as you wrote down Hannibal Lecter. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves and headed back out.

This happened three weeks ago. And now here you were smiling at each other, completely alone in the shop. Hannibal folded his umbrella and placed it into the stand beside the door. He brushed his already perfect hair back with his hand as he began to speak: "I just came by to see if you had the new fall colors." "Yes, I was just decorating them in the corner over here," you answered him. He followed you to the shelves. "We just got a vest that would fit your maroon tie perfectly," you said softly as you reached for a hanger with a dark grey vest. The trims were made of a deep maroon shade. "I suppose you like it?" he asked you. You turned around to face him realizing only now how close he was. "Yes, it is a very nice piece," you answered. Your voice was a lot more silent than before. "Well, then I will take it." The tone of his deep voice mixed with the blood rushing in your ears. His eyes lowered just for a second before he said: "The clasp of your necklace slipped, may I?" You automatically nodded before you could even think about it. His fingers brushed against your skin as he carefully took the dainty chain around your neck gently pulling it in the right place. Your skin seemed to burn under his touch and your grip on the hanger tightened. After he was done, he let his fingers glide down your neck while you looked into his eyes. Eyes that were so deep and warm. Heat turned your cheeks red as the blood spilling out of you tinged your hands. You wanted to touch him, but he disappeared in a haze of black.


	5. Epilogue

As you were laying in your blood there was a part of you that was mad at yourself for angering him. You were the only person to blame. Even though his hands caused your inevitable death you still loved him. Your hand weakly reached up to the door handle, nearly slipping off because of the blood. With your last ounce of strength, you opened it wanting to see him one last time. Hannibal stepped in, the knife was nowhere to be seen. He knew he didn´t need it anymore. Your wound was fatal, inflicted with precision. He stood there towering over you. The devil waiting to take your soul. But even the devil was an angel. And deep inside of you was the feeling that he was an angel, that he would save you. Your sight was getting blurry from the tears you didn´t know you shed. Was there a red glint in his eyes? The coppery smell of blood was enveloping you. You couldn´t see him clearly as he was leaning down. His features seemed to melt and in a desperate attempt to stop him from disappearing you reached out your hand in his direction in need of one last touch. But all your fingers could reach was the rough texture of fabric before your vision and all sense of life faded away, but you were not scared because maybe - you thought - he would smile.


End file.
